The Gallery
by Sharona1981
Summary: Nicole Baker once again asks Robert McCall for help, but this time it's on someone else's behalf, as a friend mysteriously disappears...a sequel to 'The Statistic' . ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**THE GALLERY**

**CHAPTER 1: TWO YEARS LATER**

_McCall's Apartment_

McCall sighed when he heard the knock on the door, then got slowly up off the couch, leaving his tea lying on the table for the moment, and opened the door to a smiling Mickey Kostmayer.

"Care to tell me what's so amusing?" Robert asked drily, as he ushered his friend in and Mickey shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Just because I'm smiling, doesn't mean something is funny." He retorted. As they sat on the sofa, Mickey unfurled the newspaper he had clutched in his hand, then passed it to Robert. "Thought you might wanna see this." He told him. "Page four. Article on bottom left."

McCall frowned momentarily, then looked at the page Kostmayer had referred to, and a slow smile lit up his face at what he saw:

**'LOCAL TALENT TO EXHIBIT ART WORK'**

'_New York native Nicole Baker, 19, a student at local art college, 'The Gallery', is to display an exhibition of her most recent work at the college on September 25th...' _

There was a little more to the article, but not the slightest allusion to the fact that Nicole had previously been a homeless street waif, for which McCall was grateful. He was sure Nicole wanted nothing more than to forget those years.

Mickey grinned at Robert's pleased expression. "I knew you hadn't forgotten her." He said. "Good to know she's doing well, huh?"

McCall certainly had not forgotten her. He never forgot any of the people he had helped, and it always cheered him if he chanced to learn that they had put their particular trauma behind them.

He'd hoped that Nicole would make something of her life, and he was genuinely delighted that she had.

"I think this calls for a drink." Robert proclaimed, still smiling. News like this made what he did worthwhile...

_'THE GALLERY'-3 DAYS BEFORE THE EXHIBITION_

The college had rarely seen a busier day. People ran everywhere, and the entire building was a hub of chaos, as preparations were made for the exhibition.

Nicole was in her room, when her friend Melissa Roberts came bursting in, full of infectious enthusiasm. "Hey, how's the artist doing?" She grinned. "You nervous?"

"Are you _trying_ to embarrass the Hell out of me?" Nicole's smile softened the sarcasm, which wouldn't have deterred Melissa in the least, anyway. She was the eternal optimist, only two years Nicole's senior, who saw good in everything and everyone. Like Nicole, she had been in foster care, but had been treated considerably better by the system, and had the sunny personality to prove it. Nicole's cynicism was a sometimes stark contrast, but the two girls had still hit it off immediately, after her arrival two years before.

"Ok," Melissa threw up her hands in cheery surrender, pushing errant chestnut curls out of her face. "But you gotta be excited at least, right?"

"You were right first time." Nicole replied, not quite succeeding in keeping the worry out of her voice. "I'm so nervous I can barely breathe. I'm not even that good, Mel. What if nobody wants any of my stuff? What if nobody even comes? I can't-"

"Whoa, whoa," Melissa raised her hands, palms-up, the smile fading only slightly. "I didn't know asking you if you were nervous was gonna result in you having a nervous breakdown!" She reached over and squeezed her shoulder, then added, "Nicki, your stuff is amazing, everybody can see that. Amy wouldn't want to show off your work if she didn't think so."

Amy Knox was manager and, most recently, outright owner of The Gallery. She was herself an accomplished artist, and it was common knowledge that she had an eye for talent.

It was Amy who had interviewed Nicole, who had told her, when she had completed several different drawings and paintings for her, that she had a gift, had expressed apparently sincere astonishment that she'd had no formal art training whatsoever-and offered her a place in the college on the spot.

She had Robert McCall and Mickey Kostmayer to thank for all of this, of course, as well as Amy herself, who had, in their own way, seen something in her she'd failed to see in herself. Two years after Robert had secured the interview, she hadn't seen any trace of him, or of Mickey for that matter, but she had the distinct impression that neither man would or could be found unless they wanted to be. In a way, though, she felt sad that she hadn't seen them-while she was happy here, had made friends and genuinely loved her work, McCall and Kostmayer had been the first people to enter her life who had truly earned and merited her trust.

She missed them...

(_Nicole won't have a chance to miss Robert and Mickey for much longer, as a shocking disappearance forces her to reconnect with the men who saved her life. So far, I only intend to use McCall and Kostmayer in this story too-though I am thinking of introducing Control and Scott McCall in cameo appearances. Please read & review. Thank you!)_

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	2. A Disappearing Act

**CHAPTER 2-A DISAPPEARING ACT**

The next morning, Melissa took Nicole shopping-"Well, you need a new outfit to wow all those buyers!" She'd explained. Nicole didn't have the heart to tell her that it was her _art_ she wanted to wow them with, not her appearance. But she was content to go along with the plan.

It was Amy who had not only cemented her place in the college, but had managed to get her a job at a restaurant. True, it was only a job waiting tables, and it was only part-time, but her accommodation and college course were free, so her money was her own. The college was run almost exclusively on private funding; that was to say, from Amy's not-inconsiderable bank account. Her own art continued to sell well, but her parents, having died seven years ago, had been very successful business people and investors, and since Amy had been an only child, they had selected their daughter as their sole inheritor. Thankfully, though, her undoubted wealth had not adversely affected her personality. Amy was faultlessly generous, decent and kind-hearted, and, next to Robert and Mickey, the one person to whom Nicole owed the most.

Having bought a new and reasonably priced outfit of tight blue jeans, black knee-high boots, and classy purple top with spaghetti straps, the two girls turned to go back to the college, Mel chattering incessantly, Nicole characteristically lost in thought.

To get to the college, they had to pass Amy's apartment, and the two girls stopped short when they got to her brownstone, to find a police car parked outside.

"What do you think's going on?" Melissa seemed nonchalant, but Nicole felt her blood run cold. For her, a cop car meant an unwilling trip down memory lane, to a conveyor belt of foster homes, one worse than the next. But it wasn't just that-she had a feeling that something bad had happened.

Even as she thought it, two police officers exited the building, shaking their heads and muttering something about 'wasting time'. Swallowing her instinctive dislike and mistrust of the police, Nicole approached. "What's going on here?" He demanded, pointedly ignoring Melissa's shocked expression at her impertinent tone. The two officers shared a bemused look, and one said, in a condescending tone that seemed to be a particular specialty of people in authority and irritated Nicole no end, "Do you live here, Miss?"

"I know someone who does." Nicole replied shortly, and then, because her gut told her she should, she added, "Amy Knox. She runs the art college we go to." At 'we', she made a vague gesture toward Melissa, unable to shake the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

The policemen shared another look, and then the other said, "A neighbour said she heard a commotion coming from Miss Knox's apartment. But when we managed to get in there, it seemed she'd just left. There was a note to the housekeeper she employed saying she'd gone on holiday for a time and could she watch the place while she was away?" A pause, and he added, "I take it she didn't tell anyone else she was going?"

Nicole shook her head emphatically. "That's not right." She retorted firmly. "There's an important exhibition three days from now that she wouldn't miss, and the college is her _life_...she wouldn't just take off!"

The first officer sighed, then asked of her, "Would you take a look at the note, see if it's her handwriting? If it's not...we'll investigate further."

Amy never flaunted her wealth; when she donated to charity, it was done quietly and discreetly. Ditto, when she'd purchased The Gallery. She didn't partake in the media circus other rich people seemed to enjoy, and was rarely pictured in the papers, so not a lot of people knew how much she was actually worth. And certainly, the NYPD would have no reason to.

The apartment was neat, far too neat for any breakneck intrusion, as Nicole had half-expected to see proof of. On the kitchen countertop, lay the note, to which was attached a wad of cash, which _was_, to Nicole's shock, in Amy's neat handwriting:

_Maria, _

_I'm sorry to do this without giving you any notice, but I've decided to take a break for a while. I'm feeling stressed out and need a change of scenery. Would you mind keeping an eye on the apartment while I'm gone? I've left you a month's pay, am hoping to be back soon. _

_Thank you, _

_Amy._

"Well?" The first officer who had spoken didn't even bother to try to conceal his impatience, but Nicole couldn't answer straight away. She didn't know what to think. She had seen Amy's handwriting often enough to recognise it, but...it just felt wrong. She wouldn't just leave, three days before one of the biggest events the college had ever held. She wouldn't leave, _period_. Not without telling someone, surely.

"It's Amy's handwriting." It was Melissa who was speaking. "But it couldn't..."

"Something's wrong." Nicole turned to face the room, looking at the police officers and seeing that she had probably already lost their interest, or even their curiosity. Even Melissa looked doubtful.

"With all due respect, _Miss_-?" The second officer paused to allow Nicole to supply him with her surname, which she didn't, and with an aggrieved sigh, he continued, "There's no break-in, not even a forced entry; money left for the housekeeper, and a note which your friend here says is in Miss Knox's handwriting."

"It is her handwriting." Nicole affirmed. "But...what about the commotion the neighbour heard?"

"He said there was the sound of breaking glass, like a window being smashed, which was why he thought there was a break-in." Cop number two seemed slightly calmer. "But when we got here, we just found a lamp overturned, which must have been what the neighbour heard. He says he didn't see Miss Knox leave before he knocked, but that she may have, because he wasn't paying attention all the time. There was certainly no window broken. We checked. The window was open in the kitchen though."

"You saying that Amy knocked over a lamp, and didn't bother to pick it up before she left?" Nicole was incredulous. _Law enforcement_? She'd do a better job herself! "And left a window open?"

"Maybe she was in a hurry." Cop number one was getting increasingly snappy; obviously, he didn't like being questioned. "Unfortunately, open windows and overturned lamps don't constitute a crime. There's no evidence of any crime, no sign of intrusion...much as you may not want to believe it, Miss, it seems Miss Knox really has gone on vacation. She's been careless-not kidnapped."

Nicole was practically incandescent with rage by the time she and Melissa got outside the apartment, and her friend's dubious expression really wasn't helping. "It does look like Amy's just gone on vacation, Nicki." Melissa said meekly. "I mean, the note..."

Knowing she shouldn't take her anger and sense of hopelessness out on her friend and not caring, Nicole rounded on Melissa. "Do you _really_ believe that?" She snapped. "Do you _honestly_ think that Amy would just leave without telling us? That she'd just disappear without making sure her apartment was secure? _Do_ you, Mel?"

Tearing her gaze away from Melissa's hurt expression and already regretting her outburst, she said, "I'm sorry. It's not your fault. I just have a bad feeling about this."

And then, she knew just what she had to do. The _only _thing to do. The idiot police might think Amy had simply gone on an impulsive holiday, but she knew better.

Nicole headed for the nearest payphone, and when Melissa threw her a questioning look, she simply said, "The police won't help, Mel."

She reached the phone, yanked up the receiver, fed it coins and dialled a number she had long since memorized, Melissa asked, "What are you doing?"

The reply was again simple, and grim: "Calling somebody who _will_."...

_Next: Nicole and Robert meet again, and she tells McCall about Amy-but will (he share her misgivings? Please read & review!)_

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	3. A Reunion

**CHAPTER 3-REUNION **

As Melissa continued to look on, Nicole heard Robert's phone ring once, twice, and then finally, his answering machine kicked in: 'Please state the nature of your problem, and a contact number, and I will get in touch with you.'

There was no mistaking Robert's smooth English accent, even though he didn't mention his name in his recorded message. Momentarily, she, not for the first time, wondered exactly who this man actually was, and then she spoke, quickly and quietly, leaving her message for him.

When she hung up, she immediately turned to go back to college, and Melissa had to hurry to catch up to her, but Nicole still heard the question she'd been expecting:

"Wait-who's Robert?"

As it happened, McCall had been in the shower when Nicole called, and moments after she'd left the message, he came padding into the kitchen, wrapped in a robe, having heard the telltale beep of the machine. He might be getting older, but his hearing was still impeccable. "Honestly," he muttered under his breath. "I sometimes think these people _wait_ until I've left the room to..."

Robert let the sentence trail off with a sigh, knowing that he was being ridiculous, then pressed 'Play' on his machine. There was a brief moment of static, and then:

"Mister McCall?...Robert?" The voice was familiar, and had addressed him by name; he was instantly more alert. "You probably won't remember me, but my name is Nicole Baker. I need your help with something. You can reach me at The Gallery, the art college? The number is five-five-five..."

McCall automatically made a note of the number, even though he'd already decided to go to the college in person. Of course he remembered Nicole-less than twenty-four hours ago, he'd been reading about her upcoming art exhibition in the paper. He wondered if her call concerned the exhibit, and then shook his head, marvelling at the fact that after only two years, this young lady needed his help again...

Back at the college, the whole place was up in arms because of Amy's vanishing act. However, much to Nicole's chagrin, the police had got in contact with the assistant manager, Rebecca Monroe, before she and Melissa got back, and the entire staff, small though it was, now seemed to be buying the whole 'impromptu vacation' crap. It never ceased to amaze and appal Nicole, how blindly some people trusted the police department.

The general mood in the place was of anger and disappointment, directed at the absentee manager and owner, who, Nicole increasingly felt, was in some sort of danger. She hoped that Robert would reply to her message soon.

Rebecca seemed annoyed that Nicole had been so 'rude' to the police, and she was sorely tempted to show Rebecca, who was often too egotistical and patronizing for her own good anyway, her scars, and explain to her exactly why she didn't like cops. But she wouldn't give her the satisfaction of displaying any kind of weakness.

Nicole had only been sitting in her room for a few moments when there was a timid knock and Melissa poked her head around the door, still looking slightly bewildered. She waved her friend in, and Melissa entered, quietly closing the door behind her. "You really think something bad's happened to Amy, don't you?" She enquired. Nicole smiled slightly, and, standing up, gestured to her bedroom window, which faced the street. "I spent a large portion of my life out there, Mel." She replied. "I had nobody looking out for me, and nothing to rely on except my instincts. She's in trouble. I can feel it."

Melissa nodded slowly, then said, "It's just nobody else seems to think..." "Mel, I'm not asking you to believe me." Nicole interrupted sharply. "I'm not asking _anyone_ to believe me. But I know how I feel." A pause, and then she added, more quietly, "I just hope Robert agrees with me."

"Ok, _who_ is Robert?" Melissa had persisted with this exact line of questioning, since she had left the message on his answering machine, and Nicole now figured she may as well answer. Picking up that morning's newspaper, she flipped to the advertising section, then tossed it to her. "Have you seen this ad?" She asked. Melissa studied the paper for a moment, then seemed to see what Nicole was talking about, and her eyes widened. "You called The Equalizer?" She exclaimed. "I called The Equalizer." Nicole confirmed.

"You really think this guy will help?" Melissa asked; she had that damnably doubtful expression on her face again, and Nicole had to struggle to keep her voice calm. "He helped me once before." She replied tightly, without explaining further; while she liked Melissa a lot, usually, she had told her almost nothing of her life on the streets, and nothing at all about the fact that she had been shot. Melissa shrugged, then smiled. "Well, I hope you know what you're doing." She said casually. "I mean, imagine how embarrassing it'll be if Amy shows up alive and kicking..." Nicole's glare brought that sentence to an abrupt halt, and Melissa turned to the window, shaking her head. "Okay, okay." She ceded. "Just saying."

Nicole went over the whole thing in her head again. No forced entry, overturned lamp, open window...and the note in Amy's handwriting. All of this led to a simple explanation, that Amy had simply and suddenly decided to take off, on an unannounced holiday.

Only, Amy wasn't buying that. Not by a long shot.

There was talk of the exhibit being at least postponed for the time being, but she wasn't even thinking about that. All she cared about was Amy's safe return. She only hoped Robert could help.

Over by the window, Melissa suddenly gave a long, low whistle, interrupting Nicole's thoughts. "Nice car." She breathed, and Nicole sighed. "I've _seen _nice cars, Mel." She countered. "Yeah, I know." Melissa replied. "But...I think this is a _Jag_, Nicki."

Nicole practically threw the chair aside in her rush to get up, and raced to the window. Sure enough, there was a black Jaguar XJ6 parked at the curb right outside the college.

She'd know that car _anywhere_.

"It's him, isn't it?" Melissa stared at her friend. "The ad guy?" As if on cue, Rebecca threw open the door after a cursory knock. "There is a Mister McCall in the exhibit room, Nicole." She said coldly. "He says you're expecting him?" Her expression clearly told Nicole she expected her to elaborate on why an older English guy was looking for her, which Nicole had no intention of doing. It also gave her great pleasure that Rebecca, someone who had ideas far above her station, had been forced to play messenger girl. And she knew from experience that Robert McCall wouldn't have taken any of her crap.

"Thanks, Rebecca." She said, just as coldly. "I'll be right there." As Rebecca left, Nicole turned to Melissa. "I won't be long. " She told her, and then, when her friend tried to protest, added, "I have to talk to Robert alone, Mel. I'll be back."

Robert was standing with his back to her, hands clasped behind his back, when Nicole entered the exhibit room; he was staring up at one of her most recent works, a portrait of a homeless man who frequented the nearby streets, and played violin. Nicole felt a particular affinity with people on the streets, for obvious reasons.

She felt embarrassed that he was looking at her work; other than that picture she'd drawn of one of the men who had attacked her, he'd never seen any of her art. Honestly, though, she wasn't even half as embarrassed as she was happy to see him.

Slowly, she approached him, then said gently, "So. What do you know about art?" Robert didn't turn or even flinch, but merely replied, amusement clear in his voice, "You'd be surprised."

"Oh, no," Nicole chuckled, finally standing next to him. "_Nothing_ about you would surprise me." He finally looked down at her with a gentle smile and look of affection, and hugged her briefly. When he pulled away, he told her, "Hello, Nicole. You look wonderful." She felt herself blush, but still responded, "Oh, yeah? You don't look so bad yourself." There was a short comfortable silence, and then she added, more seriously, "Thanks for coming."

He made no comment for a moment, but merely nodded slightly, turning away again, then said, "Nicole, please don't tell me I'm here because somebody _else_ wants to kill you." She smiled at this, then replied, "I'm sorry, I wasn't clear on the phone. It's not me, Robert. Not this time."

He smiled briefly when she reverted to using his Christian name, then swept his arm across the room in an expansive gesture. "Are all of these yours?" He asked, as if he hadn't heard her. "Most of them." Nicole told him. "All of the portraits are mine. Like I told you, I'm better with faces than anything else." "You have an extraordinary gift." Robert's tone was openly admiring. "I saw the article in the paper about your exhibition. Is that why you called? Has something gone wrong?" Nicole paled at his astute observation, but did not answer, and then, quick as a flash, he sounded his usual authoritative self as he asked, "Is there somewhere we can talk more privately?" Nicole, her sense of deference to this man returning, replied meekly, "Sure. We can talk in my room."

Melissa's eyes were as wide as saucers when Nicole walked into the room with McCall at her heels, and Nicole hid a smile when she immediately stood up. When she'd lived on the streets, she'd known a Vietnam vet named Rick, who, while he wasn't entirely sane, had still had the aura of a man used to being in charge. Robert had that same aura-he just had a way about him that demanded total and unquestioning obedience. Hence Melissa's reaction. And hence Nicole's own sense of deference and respect for this man.

"Robert, this is my friend, Melissa Roberts." Nicole made the introduction, watching as Melissa hesitantly shook hands with the older man. "Mel, this is Robert McCall. He's gonna help find Amy."

Of course, Nicole had made no mention of Amy to Robert yet, but he never said anything, merely nodded. She knew from her own experience with him that he was the kind of man who would bide his time, would give nothing away until the appropriate time. And right now was not the appropriate time-because Melissa was still here.

"Mel, would you mind-?" Melissa didn't even let Nicole finish, but rushed to the door, seemingly delighted to be dismissed. "I'll be downstairs if you need me." She said, outwardly cheery, but Nicole didn't miss the cautious, even fearful, glances she threw in Robert's direction. And she doubted he missed them, either.

"I think I make your friend nervous." Robert didn't speak until Melissa was gone and well out of earshot, and Nicole looked at him, arching an eyebrow. "Robert, I bet you make a _lot_ of people nervous." She shot back, and she saw the ghost of a smile whisper across his mouth. "Touché." He murmured, touching fingers to his forehead in a salute. If anyone else had made this gesture, Nicole would have thought they were mocking her, but not Robert. And not with her.

McCall straightened the lapels of his jacket, a fidgety habit he couldn't quite overcome, regarding the young woman in front of him. The Nicole he had met two years ago had been thin, undernourished, unkempt. This Nicole was glowing with health, sturdy, clean...and, if he could admit such a thing to himself, beautiful. The transformation was incredible-or, at least, the physical transformation was incredible. Because Robert could still see that hardened, cynical, mistrusting look that glimmered in her eyes. An expression that was not directed at him, but at others. She and that girl Melissa might be friends...but it was clear to Robert that she didn't quite trust her. But that would take time. After what Nicole had endured, trusting _anyone_ would take time.

He was just grateful that the girl trusted _him_.

"So," Robert sat on the nearest chair, situated by the window, politely declining Nicole's offer of tea or coffee. "What seems to be the problem? And who is Amy? I presume she's the reason you rang?"

Nicole told him the whole story, that Amy now owned The Gallery, and that she had disappeared. She omitted no details, telling him about her encounter with the police, the commotion the neighbour had heard, how she had seen Amy's apartment, with the open window and carelessly broken lamp...and the note, which, inexplicably, was in Amy's handwriting.

Robert stared hard at her when she brought up the note, and she bowed her head. "I know what you must be thinking." She said. "If she left a note, she must be okay, but...it doesn't make sense, Robert. None of this makes sense. Amy wouldn't just leave...especially not with this exhibit coming up. She's worked so hard for this." McCall continued to look at her contemplatively, and she felt tears threatening. If he didn't believe her, nobody would.

"You think I'm crazy, don't you?" She felt defeat come crashing in, and self-doubt along with it. Maybe everyone else was right; was she completely over-reacting?

Her musings were cut off when Robert held up his hands, smiling slightly. "Nicole," he said briskly. "You called me because your instincts told you something was amiss. Am I right?" When she nodded, he continued, "If you never trust anyone, _always_ trust your instincts. They may not always be a hundred per cent correct...but they will always lead you in the right direction." There was a brief pause, and then he said, "Nicole, I think you were right to call me. Everything about this seems off to me." He looked her right in the eye and asked, "You believe she was kidnapped, don't you?"…

_(Next-Nicole and Robert theorise about what may have happened to Amy, and then he calls in some backup to formulate a plan. Also, sparks fly when Nicole meets McCall's son Scott. Please R&R!) _

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	4. Theorising

CHAPTER 4-THEORISING

(_I watched the Alfred Hitchcock movie, 'The Lady Vanishes' before writing this chapter, and it inspires this story somewhat. If you've seen the movie, or indeed read the source novel, you'll know what I mean. If not, well, I hope you enjoy anyway. Apologies for no Scott or Mickey as yet-I wanted to eke it out a bit longer,lol. I think Control's cameo will be at the end-and Jimmy may make an appearance too, simply because I think he's funny,lol.)_

"It shouldn't seem like that." Nicole replied. "I mean, not with the note, but...I don't think she left that apartment on her own speed, Robert. I think there's someone else involved."

McCall nodded slowly, considering this, then asked, "What exactly did the note say, can you remember?" Nicole threw him a sly smile, then dug around in the back pocket of her jeans, produced a piece of paper, and handed it to him. Robert unfolded it, looked at it, then glared at her disapprovingly, and her smile faded slightly, his expression making her more than a little nervous. "I took it while their backs were turned." She said quietly. "I guessed they wouldn't miss it."

"Nicole, you can't go around stealing evidence from a crime scene!" If his expression had made Nicole nervous, the tone of his voice downright scared her, but she protested desperately, "But it's not evidence! The cops aren't even treating this as a crime, so how could it be evidence?"

Robert couldn't argue with her point, but threw her one last angry look for effect, before turning his attention back to the note. "This is definitely Amy's handwriting, yes?" He asked shortly.

"Yes, sir." The reply was so low that McCall barely heard it, and when he looked up at Nicole again, he was horrified to see that she was almost in tears. Tough, this girl undoubtedly was-but not when it came to him, apparently. Why had he been so annoyed with her, anyway? She was just doing all she could to help a missing friend, and besides, she was right-according to the police, there _was_ no crime.

"I'm sorry, Nicole." He said gently. "I didn't mean to snap. I just don't want you getting in trouble. _Again_."

Nicole gave him a watery smile at the emphasis on the last word, then asked, "So, what do you think?" "Well," Robert's reply seemed uncharacteristically hesitant. "There doesn't seem to be any clue in the note itself. Often, when people are in trouble, they can word things in a certain way to let people know they need help. But this seems fairly straightforward, and something tells me the owner of an art gallery wouldn't know how to use..." He stopped short, realizing he had come very close to giving too much away. He had been referring to hidden code in letters, which he was capable of deciphering. It was far too easy to trust Nicole, who already trusted him without question, who obviously longed for his approval. But there were things she would never know about him. That none of his clients would ever know about him.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he turned to a different tack. "Do you know if Amy has any enemies?" He enquired. Nicole looked shocked by the mere suggestion. "Enemies?" She repeated incredulously. "Not that I know of. I mean, she is pretty rich, but it's not exactly something she shouts from the rooftops, you know?"

"But it's possible this could be about money." Robert pressed, and Nicole looked puzzled now. "Well, it could be." She replied. "But wouldn't there have been a ransom note, instead of Amy writing the note herself? And I think-" She broke off, blushing suddenly, and Robert leaned forward. "You think what?" He prompted, his voice gentle, but with more than a hint of demand.

Nicole shook her head, feeling embarrassed now. She had a very strong suspicion about the note, but didn't want Robert thinking she was being paranoid. "It's just that," She said hesitantly. "I know Amy wrote the note herself, but...oh god, this'll sound crazy!"

"Someone will write anything with a proverbial gun to their head." Robert finished. "Or, depending on the situation, a literal one." Nicole looked up, gratitude filling her heart. He understood. By some miracle, he understood.

"You believe Amy was somehow coerced into writing that note, don't you?" McCall looked deadly serious now, and she nodded. "Yeah, I think so." She replied. "I think someone forced Amy to write it, and then took her. But I don't know where. Or _why_."

"Well", he said smoothly. "That's where I come in." Steepling his fingers against his forehead, Robert took a minute to sift through all the facts. A woman who had disappeared, a seemingly innocuous note, an overturned lamp, an open window...and a neighbour who had heard some sort of commotion.

"The neighbour who reported hearing noise." He said quietly. "Do you remember if the police said she saw anyone unusual around Amy's apartment at any time that day?" Nicole didn't reply for a minute, then said, "I don't think the cops even asked, Robert. Once they got in there and saw the note, they lost interest."

McCall sighed, running fingers impatiently over his grey hair. Sometimes, the incompetence of the police force astonished even him. And of course, Nicole knew only too well about police incompetence-which was why she showed them neither trust nor respect.

"It might be worth asking." He mused. "Just in case she noticed anything." A pause, and then he added, "Wait-you said the kitchen window was open. How many floors up is Amy's apartment?"

"Six." Nicole told him. "But the window leads out onto the fire escape, so..." She stopped, eyes widening in growing realisation and horror. "Oh, Robert." She gasped. "Oh, god, Robert."

McCall nodded grimly. "It's possible that whoever came for Amy took her out that way, which explains the commotion, the overturned lamp, and then the empty apartment." He was talking quickly now, putting things together in his head. "And it would definitely explain the open window. However, did they also enter the building through the fire escape-or simply knock on the front door?"

Nicole frowned. "If they did that, and Amy just let them in, then she'd have to know them." She said. "More than that, Nicole-she'd have to _trust_ them." Robert conceded. "We have to consider the possibility that Amy knows her abductor, or abductors." He paused to smile slightly, but reassuringly, at Nicole. "We'll find her." He said firmly. "I'm going to make some calls, enlist some help-but for now, get some rest. I'll call you in the morning, and let you know of my findings. Alright?"

Nicole knew that expression on his face; it was a look of determination and stony implacability that both moved and frightened her. She knew from that look that finding Amy would be inevitable-she just hoped she'd be ok when she _was_ found.

"If I hear or see anything in the meantime..." Nicole began, and McCall immediately said emphatically, "You call me. No matter what it is, or how small or inconsequential it seems, you call. Understand?"

"Inconse-_what_?" Nicole had never been stupid, despite missing many years of formal education, but often, longer words were simply beyond her.

"Inconsequential, Nicole." Robert repeated patiently. "Or trivial. Do you understand now? Don't hesitate, whatever it is. Just call, okay?"

"Yes, sir." Robert smiled at her respectful formality, then told her, "If I don't hear from you, I will call in the morning. If the lady who received me earlier doesn't mind, that is."

"You mean Rebecca?" Nicole scoffed. "Some lady, Robert. She's got an ego the size of South America-thinks _she_ should be running The Gallery instead of Amy. I think she's actually happy that she's disappeared." She saw McCall's expression change, and shook her head, smiling. "I know what you're thinking." She said. "But there's no way Rebecca could be involved. Plenty of ego, but not much brainpower, know what I'm saying?"

"Crime often doesn't involve brainpower, trust me." Robert seemed to be saying this to himself, more than to Nicole, he said it so quietly, and then added, more loudly, "I'll talk to you soon, Nicole. Try to get some sleep tonight, alright?"

On his way out the door, Robert nodded to Melissa and Rebecca. Rebecca gave him a perfunctory nod in return, while Melissa tried to accessorise her nod with a smile, but even Nicole could see that it didn't quite reach her eyes.

As soon as he was gone, Rebecca snapped, "Who _was_ that man, Nicole?" "A friend." Was Nicole's instinctive response-but was that strictly true? She was merely a person whom Robert had helped, really. "A friend who agrees that something bad has happened to Amy. A friend who is going to help me find her."

Rebecca merely rolled her eyes and turned away, but Melissa came over, still looking uncertain. "Is he really gonna help?" She enquired. "I mean...are you _sure_ about this guy?" Nicole gave her friend a withering look. "Robert McCall is one of only two people in my life I've ever been sure of, Mel." She replied coldly. "Why do you ask?"

Melissa seemed genuinely thrown by her response, then wrung her hands awkwardly, and said, "Well, it's just...it's just…the guy _scares_ me, Nicole."

Nicole grinned; she had been expecting this reaction. She knew how intimidating Robert was, and his strict air of authority only added to that.

"Oh yeah?" She quipped. "Then try being the _bad_ guy."…

(_Next: Jimmy and Mickey are called in, and Scott and Nicole finally meet. Please R&R!)_

Top of Form


	5. Attraction, MysteryAnd A Betrayal?

**CHAPTER 5-ATTRACTION, MYSTERY...AND A BETRAYAL?**

Robert wasn't quite sure he had heard Mickey right-he glared at his young protegé with a frankly astonished expression. "Are you _quite_ certain?" He asked again, and Mickey sighed. "McCall, I'm telling you," he insisted. "I checked it out-Amy Knox had a bank account and a savings account. Both of them have been cleared out completely."

McCall felt a sudden sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach-he suddenly found himself wondering if Amy _had_ taken off of her own accord-and taken all of her money with her.

If this was true, then Nicole had been lied to. She had been betrayed. _Again_. And Robert was _not_ looking forward to informing her of that.

As if he'd read his mind, Mickey piped up, "You know, suddenly this doesn't look like a kidnapping. It looks like..."

"Yes, thank you, Mick." Robert snapped. "I'm well aware of what it looks like. However, I made a promise to Nicole-and I intend to see it through. There is no use in speculating-we need evidence that Amy did all of this of her own accord."

"Maybe somebody forced her to take out all her money." Robert fetched another aggravated sigh, then turned to regard his son, Scott, who was sitting on the sofa, watching the two men intently. Robert couldn't quite remember the exact moment when his son had become involved in his 'cases'; perhaps it had really started on that weekend at the cabin. What was meant to be an opportunity for some father-son bonding had turned into a full-scale siege. However, much as he was loathe to admit it, Scott had shown a great deal of bravery and tenacity in that situation, helping him to keep those thugs at bay and protect that girl. But he had never wanted Scott involved in any of this. He still didn't.

Apparently oblivious to his father's misgivings, Scott continued, "I mean, if someone forced her to write that note, then maybe they forced her to clear out all her accounts too. Maybe this _is_ about money." He pointedly ignored Robert's glare; that might work on his clients and the bad guys, but he was no longer intimidated by his father. If he ever had been.

Finally, Robert turned away. "Whatever it's about, I promised I'd call Nicole." He said. "In fact, perhaps it'd be best if I went over there, explained the situation face-to-face." "I can pick her up, bring her here." Scott suggested, and when his father glared at him again, he added, "Come on, Dad. I'm not doing anything else, anyway. Let me do something to help. Besides, you know I love driving the Jag."

"Fine." Robert ceded, though he wasn't at all happy about it. He wanted to keep his son out of trouble, not involve him in it. "I'll call Nicole, let her know. Bring her directly here, alright? And for pity's sake, be careful."

Nicole knew right away that something was wrong, from the tone of Robert's voice. He told her he had some news, but sadly, it didn't look very good. "My son Scott is going to pick you up at the college and bring you here." He told her. "He'll be driving my car, so you'll know him when you see him. He'll be in, say, twenty minutes? I'll see you soon."

She was surprised to learn Robert had a son, and again, she acknowledged that she knew almost nothing about this man to whom she owed her life. She wondered what Scott would be like-stern and serious, but kind, like his father? Moreover, however, she was worried what Robert would tell her about Amy.

Melissa insisted on waiting outside The Gallery with her, saying she also wanted to see what Scott would be like. "If his father's anything to go by, he's probably really serious. Could be boring as Hell too. Hard to tell. "

Nicole was unwilling to admit her thoughts had strayed in pretty much the same direction, so she merely rolled her eyes. "Sounds like you've condemned the guy before you even see him." She said, more sharply, perhaps, than intended. Funny, how protective she'd become of Robert McCall-even the slightest derogatory remark about him or anything concerning him, and her hackles went up.

Before Melissa could retort, a familiar black Jaguar materialized out of traffic, and pulled up to the curb. The driver's window rolled down and Nicole walked over, Melissa trailing behind.

Nicole Baker had never really been interested in guys; the ones that had inhabited the streets as she had, had only really been after one thing anyway, and she knew of many girls in similar circumstances to hers who had prostituted themselves to any man willing to pay. But she had managed to stay away from that sordidness. As a result, no guy had ever caught her attention.

Until now.

She watched as a handsome face, framed by wavy blond hair, poked out the window, gazing at her uncertainly. For a moment, it felt to Nicole like everybody else in the world had disappeared, except the two of them, and then she heard herself say, hesitantly, "Scott?"

"N-Nicole?" She wasn't the only one who had been instantly affected. Scott McCall had seen plenty of pretty girls, had dated quite a few, but this was by far the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Gorgeous blue eyes, dark hair...and a tough, wary aura that strangely reminded him of his father. When she nodded in the affirmative, he said, stammering like some nervous schoolboy, "Uh...h-hi. I'm Scott."

"Yeah, I know. Your dad said you'd be coming." Nicole looked amused now, and Scott found himself wishing the ground would just open up and swallow him. He had never felt so completely tongue-tied and ineffectual around a girl. "Oh. Right." He replied lamely. "Yeah, he, uh...I offered to do it." He almost told her his name again, but forced his mouth shut. God, he was being such an idiot.

Nicole got into the car, trying to ignore the knowing smile on Melissa's face as she turned away from her. True, she had never felt such an immediate attraction to someone, but Scott McCall was not what she'd been expecting. She hadn't expected this blond, good-looking guy, who was seemingly as nervous around her as she was around him. Then she remembered exactly who he was, and admonished herself. This was Robert's _son_, and she used to be a kid from the streets-it would be totally inappropriate to even _think_ about him in such a way.

They travelled in silence for several minutes, and then Nicole asked the question that was niggling at her, " So, do you help your dad a lot?" Scott seemed startled by the query, but recovered quickly, and said, "Oh. Uh...not really. He doesn't really like me getting involved, usually, but...I kind of persuaded him. I don't have practice today, and I wanted to help."

"Practice?" Nicole repeated, and Scott smiled, while still keeping his attention firmly on the road ahead. "I'm a musician." He told her. "I play classical violin, some guitar." He felt himself blushing; suddenly, something he loved doing sounded totally stupid. Probably did to her, anyway.

Nicole had to stop herself from gawping. This guy was _so_ not what she'd been expecting. To make matters worse, her attraction was growing by the second. Scott McCall really was too cute for his own good. "Are you any good?" The question was a bit direct, she realized, and even Scott's eyes widened, before he chuckled softly, and replied, "I don't know. You'd have to hear me play."

"Maybe I will." Oh god, was she _flirting_ with him? She didn't even know _how_ to flirt! She might be a little worldlier than most, but not when it came to the opposite sex. And Robert was a friend...maybe. This was just totally wrong.

Scott absorbed her words with a slight smile. He liked this girl already-she was upfront and direct, which he admired. And she was gorgeous, which was obviously a plus. Then his smile faded when he remembered that Nicole was his father's client; he'd overheard him reading Mickey the Riot Act once about getting 'involved' with a client. His father would _not_ approve.

But did he _care_?

"Dad says you're an artist." He said, just as they pulled up outside Robert's brownstone, and Nicole nodded, remembering once again exactly who and what she used to be. She knew Robert was a good man, but she would never be an appropriate girlfriend for his son.

_Girlfriend_? Jeez...was she jumping the gun or what?

"Yeah." She replied shortly. "Your dad helped me get into college. I'm very grateful." She needed to remind him that she was his father's client, to try to put distance between them. Because nothing would or could ever happen.

It was Mickey who opened the apartment door, and he grinned at Nicole. "Hey, kid." He greeted her. "Long time no see." She suppressed a smile at his use of the word 'kid', and replied casually, "Mickey. Good to see you." His smile this time was much more genuine, as he stepped aside to let Nicole and Scott in. It didn't escape his attention, though, that the two of them seemed kind of nervous and edgy around each other; nor did the surreptitious glances and red faces, and Mickey felt a faint twinge of dismay and sympathy.

Nicole and Scott were attracted to each other. And if it was obvious to him, it was sure as Hell going to be obvious to _McCall_.

Right on cue, Robert appeared in the hallway, and sure enough, his gaze flicked over Nicole and Scott, and he frowned, but quickly, his face took on a grim, determined look. "Nicole, hello." He said quietly, then nodded to his son and added, "You've met my son, Scott, and obviously, you remember Mickey. Come on through to the kitchen."

Nicole obeyed automatically, following Robert's lead, and she stopped short when she saw there was a man sitting at the kitchen table that he hadn't met before. He looked a bit younger than Robert, with receding hair and what looked like a perpetually defeated expression. He smiled awkwardly at her, and behind her, Robert said, "Nicole, this is Jimmy. He's a, um...friend of mine. Just stopped by."

Jimmy stood. "I gotta go, McCall." He said; even his voice sounded defeated. "I can't even afford to spend _time_ these days, you know, with the..." "The divorce, yes." Robert sounded wearily amused. "You will be available though Jimmy, if I need you?" He shrugged. "Yeah, sure." He drawled. "Just give me a call, okay?"

Nicole suddenly felt like she had stepped into something far more significant than it seemed. Jimmy seemed harmless enough, but she somehow had the feeling that Robert McCall didn't keep company with harmless men. Catching Mickey's eye, she raised an eyebrow in silent question, and he affected an innocent expression and shrugged.

Yep-there was _definitely _more to this scenario than met the eye.

As soon as Jimmy had departed, Robert cut to the chase, inviting Nicole to sit. "I asked Mickey to make some discreet enquiries about Amy, Nicole." He told her grimly. "Apparently, both her bank and savings accounts have been emptied."

Nicole looked completely puzzled. "But..." She said hesitantly. "Why would she empty her...?" Robert could have groaned aloud at the suddenly hard, contemptuous expression that crossed her face. Nicole was a smart girl; he knew exactly what conclusion she would come to.

"She really _has_ taken off, hasn't she?" Her tone was flat, but nobody could miss the anger flashing in her eyes. "This wasn't a kidnapping; she's made a fool out of everyone. She even fooled me."

Nicole now wore the familiar weary expression of someone well accustomed to being fooled, to being betrayed. Robert reached for her, but to his surprise, it was Scott who got there first, laying a gentle, soothing hand on her shoulder. "Listen," he said quietly. "If you think somebody forced this woman to write the note, then maybe someone forced her to take out all her money. Do you think maybe someone had it in for her?"

"Scott..." There was a hint of warning in Robert's voice, but Nicole was staring at his son, suddenly rapt. Finally, she replied, "Your dad already asked me that, Scott. I don't know. It just feels now like I've done this for nothing." Glancing at Robert and Mickey, she added apologetically, "I'm sorry if I've wasted your time."

"Nicole, you have not wasted _anyone's_ time." Robert returned sternly, while Mickey piped up, "I gotta ask, kid-how did you figure this was a kidnapping in the first place?"

She smiled slightly, then responded, "The lamp, Mickey. The overturned lamp. And the open window. It just didn't make sense." "Why not?" Robert frowned at his son's questioning, but Scott paid no heed. "Amy's a neat freak." Nicole said. "Not in a bad way, or anything...everything just has to be in order and tidy, and...I don't care what kind of hurry she was in, she wouldn't have been that careless. At least that's what I thought."

"I have to be honest, Nicole." Robert said. "When Mickey first told me of his discoveries, for a few moments, I also thought the worst of your friend. But now, considering what you've just said...I still believe something happened to Amy. And I think Scott may have a point. It definitely merits further investigation."

"What are you planning to do?" Nicole felt a little ashamed for being so quick to think the worst of Amy, but it had looked pretty bad. _Still_ looked pretty bad, admittedly.

"I have a friend on the force, Lieutenant Jefferson." As he had expected, the very mention of police made Nicole's face drop, and she muttered, "Cops?" Scott was looking at her curiously, and she just shook her head at him, again reminding herself that Scott McCall was out of her league.

"Not all cops are..." Robert trailed off, remembering that Scott was still in the room, then said hastily, "Lieutenant Jefferson is a good man, Nicole. I'll run all of this by him, anyway. We should also talk to the people at the bank, and that neighbour." He paused, then added, "I'm sure something will turn up. Whether it'll be what we want or expect, remains to be seen."...

_(Next-Lieutenant Jefferson tries to help, while at the bank, there is a development. Also, Nicole tries to fight her growing feelings for Scott, then a meeting with an old friend leads to a terrifying ordeal. Please R&R, thank you! __***PS-My story will not be canon. As far as I can remember, Scott didn't even meet Mickey until the events of Mission McCall, an episode I may explore in a possible sequel to this story.*)**_


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6: ...AND THE PLOT THICKENS**

_I can only apologise most sincerely for the delay in updating; I lost the original draft for this chapter, so had to write, edit and upload the whole thing again. Anyway, hope you enjoy. I have no beta and never did, so any grammar/spelling mistakes are mine_.

Once Mickey had ascertained that Scott and Nicole were out of earshot, he drew Robert aside. "This whole thing stinks, McCall." He whispered. "And I don't know if bringing Jefferson into this is a good idea. You know how Nicole feels about cops." "I'm very much aware of how she feels, Mick, thank you." McCall replied impatiently. "We need someone with legitimate authority in this instance-you know that. And before you even say it, no I am not bringing Control into this. Not unless I damn well have to." With a sigh, he added, "I do worry about Nicole, if I'm honest. If it turns out that Amy really _has_ run off with this money, Lord knows how she'll react."

"I'd be concerned about her and Scott too, if I were you." Mickey said drily, no longer able to resist alluding to their obvious mutual attraction, and when Robert frowned at him, he continued, "Come _on_, Robert-don't tell me you didn't see the way those two looked at each other." The younger man took an involuntary step backwards at the suddenly angry expression on Robert's face. "Hey," he said quietly. "I'm just making an obversation." "An obversation is one thing." McCall's voice was low, but there was no mistaking the note of warning in it. "But I don't think I care very much for what you're implying."

Mickey was about to protest, when Nicole suddenly emerged from the kitchen, Scott in tow. "If you think this cop can help, Robert, then I'm okay with it." She said. "You know what's best."

Robert smiled, expertly hiding his unease-not just because he genuinely didn't know which way this situation would turn, but also because he _had_ seen how Scott and Nicole were looking at each other. And it worried him. It wasn't that he thought Nicole wasn't good enough for his son-the very notion was ridiculous-but because when it came to romance, Scott's track record wasn't exactly exemplary, and he didn't want the young lady getting hurt.

She had already been hurt far too much...

Lieutenant Jefferson stood as McCall walked into the precinct, then noticed the young woman trailing behind him, eyeing the officers milling around with open mistrust and suspicion. Inwardly, Jefferson sighed. Why did he get the distinct impression that Robert McCall was about to drop trouble onto his lap again?

"McCall." He greeted the older man. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Robert motioned the girl forward and told him, getting straight to the point as usual, "This is Nicole Baker. A friend of hers has disappeared under suspicious circumstances, and we need your help in trying to locate her." "I thought that was your forte, McCall." Jefferson replied. "Why did you come to me?" "Because we seem to have hit a dead end." Robert replied shortly. "Will you help us, Jefferson?"

The Lieutenant didn't answer right away, but switched his focus to Nicole; the kid couldn't possibly make it more obvious that she didn't want to be here. She obviously disliked the police, that much was clear. And Jefferson couldn't help but wonder why.

"Do you wanna tell me what happened, Miss Baker?" He asked, and it didn't escape his attention that Nicole first looked to McCall for permission, before she spoke to him. She started at the beginning, telling him who Amy was, and how she had disappeared from her apartment. And how they had discovered, only hours ago, that her bank accounts had been emptied. Jefferson absorbed this information for a moment, then said what they had thought of already. "You do realise it's possible that Amy left of her own volition, taking her money with her?" "That's the first thing I thought of." Nicole replied curtly. "But she's my friend-I want to at least _try t_o give her the benefit of the doubt." Jefferson nodded. "Well, that's understandable." He told her, then, looking at Robert, continued, "Okay, McCall, I'll try to help, or at least inject some actual real police authority into this." He flashed a brief grin, and then it was gone as he added, "We'll start with the bank, see if the tellers remember anything strange." Then, to Nicole: "Miss Baker, would you mind giving me a minute with McCall? It won't take long." Nicole looked to McCall again, who added. "Wait in the car, Nicole." He said. "I'll be right out."

Once Nicole had left, Jefferson asked, "Where'd you find the kid?" "What has that got to do with anything?" As was usual with McCall, Jefferson thought, he wanted help, but would supply no information. "Oh, nothing." Jefferson replied casually. "It's just, it's pretty clear she's got a thing about cops. And I don't mean in a good way."

Robert leaned forward on the Lieutenant's desk, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You're absolutely right." He said coldly. "Nicole _has_ got a 'thing' about cops. And if you knew even _half _of what that girl has gone through, you'd understand why. Now, are you coming, or not?"

"Hey, I don't take orders from you, McCall." Jefferson snapped. "You came to _me_. Don't forget that."

When Robert said nothing, just stared him out, Jefferson sighed, his annoyance dissipating, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair, adding, as they departed together, "Do I _need_ to remind you how many favours you owe me by now?"...

"Oh yes-I remember quite clearly." The female teller, who, they had learned, was Miss Amanda Berkeley, was saying. "She came in only yesterday." "Was she alone?" Even though McCall wasn't a police officer, his authoritative air could coerce responses from people who might be wary of someone else. The only reason he had brought Jefferson along, really, was because a badge often helped to loosen tongues even more. "No, there was a man with her." Amanda responded. "Polite, English, like you. She said he was her husband."

"Her _what_?" It was Nicole who spoke now; she looked absolutely astonished. Robert maintained his poker face, while Jefferson just looked confused. She seemed to regain her composure quickly, however, and with a smile, she added, "I'm sorry. We just weren't aware Miss Knox was married." Amanda began to stand as Nicole suddenly took a lodgement slip from the desk, along with a sharpened pencil, and turned the paper on its blank side. "I'm sorry." Amanda said, taken aback. "What exactly are you doing?"

"No, I'm sorry." Nicole replied, still smiling. "I'm afraid I'm new to the job, and I completely forgot my equipment." Jerking a thumb at Jefferson, who at this point was probably wondering why he'd bothered to tag along, she added, "The boss is _so _gonna fire me. You don't mind me using these, do you?" "Oh, well, no." Amanda seemed totally flustered now. "Not at all. It's just, well...what exactly _is_ it that you do?"

Nicole clapped a hand to her forehead with a groan. "See what I mean?" She exclaimed. "Why anybody would even wanna hire me...honestly." Extending her hand to Amanda, she added, "I'm Nicole Baker. Police sketch artist." Behind her, she felt rather than heard McCall inhale sharply, and hoped he wouldn't be mad at her afterwards. Thankfully, Amanda seemed to have bought it. "Do you remember what Amy's husband looked like?" Nicole continued, adopting what she hoped was a convincingly businesslike tone."Oh, yes." Amanda replied right away. "He was awfully good-looking, wavy brown hair, ice-blue eyes..."

Once Amanda had finished giving her description, Nicole showed her what she had drawn, and she gasped. "Oh my God!" She exclaimed. "That's him! That's him, _exactly_-that is amazing!" "I'll say" Jefferson murmured behind Nicole's back, but she didn't have much time for self-congratulation, as Robert asked Amanda, voice brusque, "Did it seem to you that Amy was...comfortable? That she wanted to be here, with him?" Amanda hesitated a moment, then nodded. "She seemed to be." She replied. "To be honest, when she told me what she wanted, we just got straight down to business. But he did seem to be in more of a hurry than she was-kept looking at his watch."

The two men exchanged a look at this, and then Jefferson asked, "Did you see where they went after they left here?" Amanda seemed unsure now. "Well, they crossed the street." She replied. "But to be honest, I wasn't really paying attention." A pause, and then she added, "Oh! But he did mention something about getting a newspaper-and there's a place right across the street called..." "Bobby's." Nicole cut in. "I know it." For her, the place held a lot of nice memories; Bobby was 'good people'.

"Police _sketch artist_?" McCall's incredulity was evident, once they got outside, and Nicole shrugged. "I wanted to know what the guy looked like." She replied. "And besides, she bought it." "Of course she did." Jefferson told her. "You were pretty convincing-and you got a lot of talent." Pointing at Robert, Nicole said, "I've got him to thank for all of it. But...thanks."

"Why did you seem so surprised that Amy was married?" Jefferson went on. "I mean, just because she didn't tell you, doesn't make it any less true." "You don't get it." Nicole retorted. "Amy not only didn't tell me she was married, she told me she was _single_. So where'd this husband come from?"

"I don't know, Nicole." The senior officer said. "This all seems confusing to me. There may not even be a crime here-she may just have taken off with this guy." Noticing that Nicole was about to lose her tenper, Robert quickly interrupted: "Look, perhaps we should talk to this 'Bobby'; he may know something."

"You can't." Both McCall and Jefferson turned sharply when Nicole spoke up, and she added, "I've known Bobby a long time. When I was on the streets, he helped me out sometimes, gave me something to eat, stuff like that. But he doesn't trust cops any more than I do. No offence, Robert-you might not _be_ a cop, but you _look _like one. You two go in there, he'll clam up. Let me talk to him. Bobby will tell me if he saw anything." Waving her drawing in front of them, she added, "At least I've got a good description of Amy's 'husband'."...

Bobby Farino missed nothing. Anything that went down on his side of town, he knew about it, almost before it even happened. And while Nicole had never been able to completely trust Bobby-rumours had always been rife that he had Mafia connections, which was reason enough not to get too close-she had always liked the guy. She owed him a lot, too.

Bobby looked up from the paper spread in front of him as Nicole entered his store-he sold pretty much everything, from groceries to newspapers to pet food-and his round face broke into a huge, beaming grin. "I don't believe it." He gasped. "Is that you, Nicki?" "It's me, Bobby." His grin was infectious; Nicole returned it. "How you been?"

He didn't reply, but rounded the counter and hugged her warmly. "Jeez, kid." He murmured. "It's good to see you-thought something bad had happened to you." Grabbing her shoulders, he pulled her back gently, taking a good look at her. "Boy," he quipped. "Are you a sight for sore eyes. What have you been doin' with yourself?"

"I got some help, Bobby." Nicole didn't want to elaborate on exactly who had helped her; she wasn't sure Bobby would understand how people like Robert operated. Heck, she wasn't sure _she_ understood how people like Robert operated, or even if there _were_ other people like Robert. "I'm in college now. Art college."

Bobby nodded. "Always hoped you'd do somethin' like that." He told her. "Whoever helped you...tell 'em thanks from me, okay?" A pause, and then he added slowly, "But somethin' tells me this ain't a social call, kiddo. What's up?" So Nicole showed him her drawing, gave him a quick and clear outline of what had happened, and asked if he'd seen anything. Bobby grinned, but there was almost a ferocity behind it. "You know nothin' gets past me, Nicki." He replied. "This guy was in here yesterday, with a woman. She looked just like the way you described your friend. Seemed normal enough, but there was something not right. The guy looked like he was in a hell of a hurry, and the woman...I don't know why, but I got the feeling she was scared. Didn't show it, but I've been around the block a time or two. Could practically smell fear."

Nicole nodded grimly. It was starting to sound more and more like Amy's 'husband' had forced her to clean out her bank accounts and leave with him. But why?

"You didn't see where they were going by any chance, did you, Bobby?" She enquired. "They got into a car." He told her. "Blue Lambourghini, it looked like. Didn't get the license plate though, sorry." He made an apologetic gesture with his hands, then concluded, "They turned left at the top of the street. That's all I got, kiddo."

It wasn't a whole lot, but it was a starting point. "Thanks, Bobby." She said, hugging the man again and turning to leave. "I owe you one. _Again_."

"_De nada_." Bobby waved a hand at her. "Just don't be a stranger, alright? Come in and see me sometimes."

After promising she would, Nicole stepped out onto the street, and looked around, lost in thought. She was so lost in thought, unfortunately, she didn't see the figure stepping stealthily out of the shadows until it was too late. A cloth was pressed against her mouth and nose, and she caught the distinct smell of chemicals, before unconsciousness claimed her...

_**NEXT: Robert is frantic when Nicole disappears-and just what has happened to her? I know there are security cameras in a bank, but I thought it'd be more fun to put Nicole's artistic skills to good use. Reviews are my friend. Thank you. :)**_


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7-CAPTIVITY**

_Oh, wow, it's been way too long since I updated this. Sorry the chapter is so short, but inspiration has been a little lacking. I want it to be better than my previous Equalizer effort. If David seems familiar by his description, it's because I had Daniel Craig in mind when I wrote him. Yummy. :) _

Nicole surfaced to consciousness slowly, feeling like a very enthusiastic 10-piece brass band had taken up residence in her head. She groaned, then went to put her hand to her head, only to discover that both her hands were tied behind her back.

Groggily, she opened her eyes; she was sitting on a cold stone floor, in what seemed to be a basement of some sort, and it was quite dark, but she could see the familiar figure of a woman, similarly bound, on the other side of the room.

'Amy!' Nicole's limbs ached, and her head protested very loudly as she began to crawl across the floor on her knees to her friend.

'Nicki!' Amy was already in tears. 'Oh, Nicki, I'm so sorry! You shouldn't be here-this is such a mess, I...'

Then, with a loud clang, a door behind them burst open, and both women sprang apart, turning to the doorway. Immediately, Nicole recognized the man described by the bank teller, the man whose portrait she still carried in her pocket. Unless he had already taken it.

'Ah, Miss Baker, you're awake.' He had the greasy smile of a used-car salesman, and probably about as much trustworthiness. 'So nice to finally meet you.'

True, this guy was handsome, with his light brown hair, icy blue eyes and posh accent. But there was nothing but a kind of mania, bordering on psychosis, reflected in those eyes, and Nicole felt the first thrill of fear. Was he going to kill her? Amy too?

_Great_, she thought. _I meet a boy I actually __**like**__, and now I might get killed_!

She couldn't believe she was actually thinking about _Scott_ at a time like this. Trouble was, she _did _like him, already. And while she knew it was wrong to think of Robert's son in such a way, she couldn't help it. He was cute and sweet and...

_Hello, Baker! Imminent __**death**__ here_?

Jerking her head in the guy's direction, she asked Amy, 'So, you wanna tell me who he is now?'

'David Phillips.' He replied smoothly, before Amy could say anything. 'I'm Amy's husband.'

'No, he's not.' Amy retorted wearily. 'He's lying, Nicki. We were engaged once, a few years ago, but I ended it.'

'Yeah, that's right.' David charged suddenly, and Nicki tried to stand up as Amy cowered in fear. She couldn't let this happen again, couldn't be the damsel in distress who just sat back and let people hurt her, or try to hurt people she cared about.

Things were starting to become a little clearer now, though. This guy was a few sandwiches short of a picnic.

'You _left _me!' David was screaming in Amy's face. 'You _abandoned _me! I _loved _you!'

'No, David.' Amy replied, keeping her voice calm despite her obvious fear. 'You loved my _money_. Which is why you did all this. You never loved me, just my _bank balance!_'

She practically spat the last two words at him, and as he raised his hand to strike her, Nicole piped up, 'Hey, is it any surprise? I mean, it's pretty obvious you're a nutjob!'

She expected the blow, but not its ferocity; his backhand knocked her against the floor, and she tasted the metallic tang of blood in her mouth, even as Amy screamed for him to stop. Immediately, she bounced back up, grinning through her pain. No way was she giving this crazy son of a bitch the satisfaction of showing him he'd hurt her.

Turning her head, she spat blood onto the floor, then glared at him. 'That all you got?' She taunted, surprising even herself now. 'Because believe me-I've had _worse_.'

David just gaped at her for a moment, then started to laugh. 'You've got guts.' He told her. 'Of course, playing private detective means you must have guts. I saw you going into that fat man's shop, trying to be Sherlock Holmes. Pity it didn't work out.'

'_Bobby_!' Nicole gasped, afraid again now. 'If you hurt...'

'Are you joking?' David chuckled. 'He's a lot bigger than I am, no point in risking serious injury over someone who saw nothing, who _knows_ nothing. As for the policeman and your gentleman friend, well...neither of them will ever find you, so where would be the point in senselessly drawing attention to myself by hurting them?'

Dread formed a cold ring around Nicole's heart. She didn't even know where they were, never mind Jefferson or Robert, or even Mickey or Scott. As she looked over at Amy and the resigned expression on her face, she realized that her friend and mentor had already given up hope on getting out of here alive.

But she wouldn't. She _couldn't_. She didn't know Jefferson well enough to trust him (and since he was a cop, trusting him might never happen anyway), but as long as Robert McCall was out there, looking for her-and she knew he would be-she refused to give up.

She flinched as David suddenly began to untie her, whistling cheerfully as he did so. 'Since neither of you have very much longer to live,' he said calmly. 'I don't see any sense in keeping you tied up. Bit heartless, really.' Then she felt cold metal press against her side, unmistakably a gun, and he hissed, 'Of course, if either of you so much as _breathe_ in a way I don't like, it'll be the last breath you ever take.'

Momentarily, Nicole considered attacking him, but quickly dismissed the notion as suicidal. As she had once learned to her extreme detriment, nobody could outrun a bullet. And she had no desire to die sooner than she had to.

He untied Amy just as quickly and efficiently, still pointing the gun at them, then announced, 'I need to take a little trip, ladies. Don't worry, I won't be long. Feel free to move around-you'll find no convenient escape routes.'

As soon as the door was slammed shut and locked, Nicole turned to face Amy, her expression one of exasperation and weary anger.

'So,' she sighed. 'You wanna tell me how you got involved with that fruitcake?'...

_**Coming up: A devastated Robert fears the worst, but refuses to give up his search for Nicole. When I was writing the part when David struck Nicole, all I could picture was Robert finding out-we know how he feels about violence towards women and children. By the time this story is over, I imagine Robert will have more reason than ever to exact revenge. Sorry again for the delay-please R&R! Ellen. **_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8-Where Are They? 

**Sorry again for the delay in updating this-but inspiration has hit again, somewhat, at least. **

**Thanks to Jaelle17 for kind reviews & encouragement. :) **

The brandy glass rattled on the countertop as Robert put it down with a shaking hand. Mickey wasn't sure if his hand was shaking due to anger or fear, or both. He knew McCall, perhaps against his better judgment, had developed an attachment to the kid.

And so, judging by his taut, pained expression, had Scott.

'It wasn't your fault.' It seemed to be the umpteenth time Jefferson, leaning against McCall's kitchen sink, had said that-and it seemed to offer Robert less comfort every time he did.

'Your habit of repeating yourself is becoming quite tiresome, Jefferson.' Robert snapped. 'And how can you possibly say this wasn't my fault? I let Nicole go off by herself, for God's sake!'

When Nicole hadn't returned, Robert and Jefferson had gone into Bobby's store to look for her, where he, wary at first, had told them that Nicole had left only minutes ago. Bobby had noticed quickly how distraught the older English guy had looked, and he figured out fairly quickly that this was the man who had helped Nicki out. So he'd taken his phone number, realizing that unlike the other guy, this well-spoken English dude wasn't a cop, and promised to keep his eyes and ears open, that if he heard anything, he'd let him know.

'I have connections.' Bobby had told him. 'I can help, long as you don't ask where my connections come from.'

That was over three hours ago-there had been neither sight nor sound of Nicole since.

'Come on, McCall.' It was Mickey's turn to try to appease his friend. 'You couldn't have known this would happen.'

'But I _should_ have!' Robert rounded on Kostmayer, trembling with both pain and fury, Mickey could see now. 'I'm supposed to be prepared for any situation, and now, that poor child is God knows where, going through God knows what, and it is _my_ fault. _Mine_.'

The last word was barely a whisper, as McCall seemed to visibly dwindle in front of their eyes, and he started when Mickey laid a hand on his shoulder.

'We'll find her, McCall.' He promised, his voice quiet, but firm. 'Whatever happens, we'll find her.'

Scott also wanted to comfort his father, though he was also feeling angry and helpless. He knew he was being selfish, thinking of his own feelings at a time like this, but he had, in all honesty, been affected by Nicole almost instantly, and he didn't care what his dad thought-he at least wanted a chance to ask her out...

/

'I met David about three years ago.' Amy was telling Nicole, meanwhile. 'He turned up at one of my local exhibitions, and just...swept me off my feet. He was handsome, sweet, charming-I couldn't believe my luck.'

'When did you figure out he was nuts?' Nicole asked bluntly, and Amy actually smiled slightly.

'About a year into our relationship.' She replied. 'We'd got engaged, and everything seemed okay, when all of a sudden, he just became so controlling. And wouldn't let me spend any money. Then I found out he knew about my inheritance, that he'd somehow always known. It was why he sought me out. So, not only was my so-called 'dream man' unhinged, he was only ever after my money.'

'What did you do?' Nicole enquired, and she answered, 'I dumped him. Of course, he was furious that I'd seen through him, finally, that I'd found him out. He threatened all kinds of terrible things, but the police got involved and he backed off. I thought after all this time, he was gone for good. But I was wrong.'

Tears welling up, she clasped Nicole's hand and added chokingly, 'Nicki, I'm so sorry I got you mixed up in my mess. I don't know how to get us out of this.' A pause, and then she asked, 'David mentioned a gentleman friend-has someone been helping you look for me?'

'You know the ad in the paper?' Nicole responded. The one that says, _'Got a problem? Odds against you?_''

'The Equalizer!' He exclaimed. 'I've seen the ad-you hired him?'

'His name's Robert McCall.' Nicole told her. 'And he helped me once before, Amy-I know he's looking for us right now. Do you know where we are?'

'Right underneath The Gallery.' Was Amy's astonishing reply, and Nicole gaped at her. ' I don't know what this basement was used for, but David knew about it. The Gallery's been shut for the last couple days, as you probably know, because of my absence I presume, and now that you're missing, too As soon as the place closed, David brought me down here. When it was dark, of course-he didn't want to risk us being seen. The fact that he brought you here during the day proves his mind is slipping again.'

'Haven't you tried screaming for help?' Nicole asked, once she'd absorbed Amy's words, and her friend and mentor replied, 'Of course I did-but either there's nobody around to hear, or this room is soundproofed. I screamed until I was hoarse-it did no good.'

Nicole got to her feet, face set in determination. 'Well, I don't know about you,' she said firmly. 'But I've survived too much to let myself get killed by some maniac. We need to figure out how to get the Hell out of here.'...

**Next: The penultimate chapter. Robert and Mickey show up at The Gallery-will they find Nicole and Amy, or will David get there first?**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9-No Hope?

**I miss this show. God knows, a lot of people could really do with having an Equalizer in their lives... Not a whole lot happening in this chapter, but hope you read on, anyway. **

Amy watched as Nicole thoroughly searched the room they were locked in, throwing empty boxes and assorted useless bric-a-brac this way and that.

'I already checked, Nicki.' Amy said resignedly. 'I've been left here alone a few times-there's no way out.'

Nicole turned sharply at her words. 'There's gotta be something here, Amy.' She replied. 'Something to help us get out of here. I'm not sitting around waiting for your crazy ex to come back here and kill us. And Robert won't know where we are, so...I need to _try_.'

'Robert McCall.' Amy seemed to be lost in thought suddenly, and Nicole paused to regard her friend, when she suddenly breathed, 'Oh, my _God_. That was the same guy who came strolling into my office two years ago, practically demanding that I see this very talented girl he knew. I _knew _that name seemed familiar, I just couldn't remember...' She looked at Nicole. 'You said he helped you, Nicki. He helped you once before?'

For a moment, Nicole almost didn't tell her. Of course, it'd be easy to just tell her that he'd helped her get a place at The Gallery and leave it at that-but now she knew the circumstances surrounding Amy's disappearance, her trust had been restored.

Amy deserved the truth. _Some_ of it, anyway.

'He saved my life.' She told her. 'I witnessed a murder and got shot. I didn't want to call the police, and I found his ad, so...anyway, Robert helped me, he got the men who were after me. And when you disappeared, I knew he'd be able to help. Of course, I don't think he counted on us _both_ disappearing.'

Amy seemed to be listening raptly, but Nicole was highly discomfited by her sympathetic expression. 'Why didn't you want to call the police?' She asked gently.

It was funny-she'd known Amy longer than she'd known Robert McCall, and the whole horrible story of her childhood had come spilling out to him only a few hours after they'd met. But that was different. A mixture of respect and deference had made Nicole tell him everything. Besides, Mickey had seen her scars while he was fixing her shoulder-the truth would have come out, anyway.

But she wasn't prepared to tell Amy about all the foster homes, the people who should never have been permitted to care for children, who had tried to break her body, and her spirit.

Not yet. And certainly not _here_.

'That's a long story.' She told Amy, finally. 'We get out of here alive, and I'll tell you about it.'

Amy seemed satisfied by her response, and Nicole resumed her search for something, _anything_, that might help get them out of there...

/

Robert parked the Jaguar outside The Gallery, and turned to look at Mickey, who looked as dubious as he felt. It was fairly obvious the building was empty.

'Maybe we should check out the lady's apartment.' Kostmayer suggested. 'This place looks deserted, McCall.'

'I can _see_ that, Mickey.' Robert snapped. 'And we agreed to let Jefferson look over the apartment.' Then, rubbing a hand across his face wearily, he added, in a quieter tone, 'I'm sorry. I'm just...'

'Worried.' Mickey finished for him. 'I get it. I know you like the girl.'

Robert glared at him. 'Are you implying...?!'

'Oh, for Christ's _sake_, McCall!' Now it was Mickey's turn to snap. 'You're old enough to be her _grandfather_. What kind of sick SOB do you think I am?! Besides, in case you hadn't noticed, it's your _son _she's interested in, not _you_!'

Robert now looked thoroughly ashamed, and he clapped a hand to Kostmayer's shoulder. He couldn't believe he had attempted to accuse his younger friend of even thinking such a thing.

'Mick, I'm sorry.' He said contritely. 'That was uncalled for.' A pause, and then he added, 'I have always warned myself of the complications that getting too close to a client can cause. It's highly unprofessional. But that child has no family to speak of. She has no-one. And yes, I've grown quite fond of her.'

He smiled, ever so slightly. 'And so, it would appear, has Scott.'

The men's attention was otherwise occupied, when they saw a woman approach the building from the left, and Kostmayer uttered a low whistle.

'_Nice_.' He muttered, and Robert harrumphed. He recognized the woman.

'Her name is Rebecca.' He said tersely. 'She's the assistant manager of the place or some such, according to Nicole.'

'Do you think she'll let us in?' Kostmayer enquired, and Robert grimly replied, getting out of the car and waiting for Mickey to follow suit, 'I'm afraid I shan't be giving the lady much _choice_.'...

/

**Next: final chapter. Nicole finds a way to try to get somebody's attention-just as David comes back. Will Robert and Mickey come to the rescue in time? Please R&R! :) Ellen.**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10-Rebecca

**Okay, so I'm still working on the action for the final chapter, so I'm afraid this is just more filler. I want to get the last chapter just right and it still isn't, so... Thanks for reviews & messages, much appreciated. :) **

It didn't escape Robert's attention that the look Rebecca gave him when she turned after he'd called her name, was one of mistrust and disdain. She didn't look particularly happy to see Mickey, either.

Robert remembered that Rebecca in their first, brief, meeting, hadn't looked happy with him then, either, and he found himself wondering if Nicole hadn't been wrong about her, if she was somehow involved in Amy Knox's disappearance.

Deciding not to dwell on that possibility for now, he and Kostmayer approached her. 'I'm sure you remember me, Rebecca.' He said smoothly. 'Or...Miss Munroe, isn't it? My name is Robert McCall, and this is my colleague, Mickey Kostmayer. May we speak to you?'

Rebecca Munroe was an attractive woman, seemingly in her early thirties, petite, blonde, blue-eyed. But her suspicious expression marred her prettiness somewhat.

'You're still looking for Amy?' She demanded, and when he nodded, he was surprised to see the suspicion dissipate from her face a little, replaced by weariness.

'I really thought at first that she'd just taken off on some stupid holiday, right before the exhibition.' She sighed. 'But...it was Nicole's exhibition, and she's always been like Amy's pet project. And now apparently, Nicole's vanished as well.'

'Yes.' Robert had bristled slightly at the 'pet project' remark, but he was starting to think Rebecca wasn't involved, after all. She seemed irritated and stressed, but not shifty or evasive, like someone involved in a kidnapping would be.

'It would seem that someone has abducted Nicole also.' He told her, and Rebecca now looked genuinely frightened. 'Mister McCall,' she whispered. 'What the _Hell _is going on?'

'Believe me, I intend to find out.' He replied sternly. 'May we talk to you inside?'

'Of course.' He was surprised that she agreed so readily, and as she opened the front door and they went inside the empty building, Robert remarked bluntly, 'You don't seem to like Nicole very much.'

Rebecca smiled wryly. 'I don't, do I?' She admitted, surprising McCall yet again. 'It's not Nicole's fault, I shouldn't...be so petty, I suppose. It's just, well, I always wanted to be an artist, too. Unfortunately, I had all of the ambition, but only a quarter of the talent. And, well, you've seen how gifted Nicole is, right?'

Robert nodded. He was starting to understand the reason for Rebecca's attitude.

'Amy made me Assistant Manager of this school.' She went on. 'And I'm very grateful for that-but then, Nicole showed up, and she was so naturally talented. If I treated Nicole badly, Mister McCall, it's because I was jealous. And I think she's always sensed that. She has…a way of seeing _through _people. It frightens me sometimes.' She paused for a moment, then added, 'But I never wanted anything bad to happen to her, or Amy. If I can help in any way, I will.'

'You see anyone weird hanging around here recently?' Mickey asked. 'Anyone you didn't recognize?'

She thought for a minute or two, then replied, 'There was one man, who showed up a couple of days before Amy disappeared. He was English, like you, Mister McCall. But younger. Sandy hair. Blue eyes. Good-looking. Was asking for Amy. But she wasn't here, and when I told him that, he just left. When I told Amy, she looked a little freaked out, but she didn't say anything.'

'Her husband.' Robert murmured, and Rebecca gaped at him. 'But Amy's not married.' She protested, and he said grimly, 'I think this man believes she is. It sounds like we may be dealing with someone who is mentally unstable. And I believe that this man is responsible for both Amy and Nicole's disappearance.'

They had reached the exhibit room, and Rebecca gestured to Nicole's many paintings. 'This means everything to them.' She said, sadness creeping into her voice. 'Nicole never said much about her...previous life, but it was obvious she went through a lot. This was her chance to prove she was worth something. And Amy...she was so proud of her.'

Turning to the men, she added, 'Are you going to find them?'

'Yes.' Robert didn't so much as hesitate in his answer, while Mickey remained silent. 'Believe me, Rebecca, I _will _find them.'...

**Next: **_**Hopefully**_** the final chapter-when I eventually get it right! Thanks for your patience, and please R&R! Ellen.**


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